


WELCOME HOME, LINDA

by The_Fifth_Marauder



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 21:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fifth_Marauder/pseuds/The_Fifth_Marauder
Summary: Linda Miles is the most popular corrections officer amongst the prisoners, but for all the wrong reasons. However, things are about to change.





	WELCOME HOME, LINDA

Linda Miles strode confidently down the corridors of Wentworth, nodding at the familiar faces as they passed her.

“G’day Smiles, great to have you back.”

Linda smirked to herself. _That’s because there’s been no illegal betting or fight clubs, along with a shortage of drugs and contraband coming into the prison. No wonder you’re pleased to see me._

“Onya, Smiles!” Another prisoner called out from behind.

_Yep, these skanks couldn’t get by without me._

“They appear to have missed you, Linda,” Vera said, as she walked alongside her.

“What can I say? I guess I’m popular around here. Either that or it’s my good looks and bubbly personality.”

Vera chuckled as she used her swipe card to buzz them both through the security gates to H2. “Fortunately you have a rapport with most of the prisoners.”

They walked into the recreational room and stopped outside cell number thirteen. “Lucky thirteen to match my lucky day. Thanks for the guided tour, Vera.”

“It’s Governor Bennett, now.”

“Yeah, I know and I bet you’re revelling in my misfortune.”

“You brought this all on yourself, although I’m surprised it took this long for the law to catch up with you and your illegal activities.”

“No harm done.”

“No harm? A prisoner died because of your fight club!”

Linda scoffed. “No one forced them to fight.”

“Let me make one thing clear: you’re finished supplying the women with contraband. If you so much as run a chook raffle, I will throw you into the slot and you’ll receive added time to your sentence. Do you understand?”

“I understand there’s a sure thing running in the fifth race at Flemington this afternoon. Don’t suppose you’d put a hundred on the nose for me?”

Vera refused to take to the bait. “Welcome to your new home for the next five years. I’ll leave you to get acquainted with your surroundings.” She handed Linda a rule book. “I’m sure you’re familiar with how the prison system works, but just in case, don’t forget to be standing outside your cell at 6.00am tomorrow morning for the head count.”

“Only if you guarantee Jamie Oliver will serve me breakfast in bed afterwards.”

“Everything’s a joke to you, isn’t it?”

“Not always. Do you remember the good old days when we used to go clubbing, together? Or what about your domineering old mother and that make-believe boyfriend? What was his name again?”

Vera shook her head in disgust. “Fuck off, Linda.”

Linda watched with amusement as Vera quickly retreated out of H2. _Ha! The stories I could tell the prisoners about you!_ She dropped the laundry basket filled with her belongings on the floor and sat on the bed, smiling to herself. _Maybe I brought this on myself, but in five years I’ll be a free woman with a fat bank balance, and you, Vera, will still be working the same dead-end job._

Vicky Kosta appeared at the door moments later, leaning against its frame. “Heard you were back in town. Teal suits you.”

“Officer, prisoner… makes no difference to me. My overall goal remains the same.”

“Are you gunning for the role of top dog?”

Linda laughed at the foolish comment. “Why would I do that when there’s no money involved? Your job looks promising though.”

“I’d like to see you try, given I have the support of the girls and access to the suppliers.”

“I was your main supplier, so don’t give me any of that shit. You’ve run this place into the ground while I’ve been gone, but because I’m such a nice person, I’ll let you stay on as my 2IC.”

“You have some nerve assuming I’ll be your shitkicker. Do I need to remind you what happens to ex-screws in here?” Kosta made a forced choking sound and gestured a hanging motion with an invisible noose.

The threat didn’t deter Linda. “Pretty stupid to kill your cash cow when you’ll receive a fifteen percent cut just for being my shitkicker.”

Kosta stopped mid-motion, the greed now obvious in her brown eyes. “Twenty-five percent.”

“Done.” Linda rose from the bed and shook Kosta’s hand. “Just so you know, I would have gone to thirty-five.”

“Fuck, you’re a piece of work. Okay, what’s first on the agenda?”

“Gather a crew together and send the word out on the prison grapevine - Smiles is back, and she’s reopen for business.”


End file.
